


Meetings are more fun than hacking.

by Darke_Eco_Freak



Series: It's different but we still work [3]
Category: Mr. Robot (TV)
Genre: M/M, Pseudo-Incest, Quickies in alleys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-05
Updated: 2015-09-05
Packaged: 2018-04-19 06:04:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4735244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darke_Eco_Freak/pseuds/Darke_Eco_Freak
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Flipper needed to be walked and maybe she knew better than him. Correction, she did know better than him. So he would take her for a walk and ignore the Tyrell problem as long as he could.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Meetings are more fun than hacking.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thecannabiskid](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecannabiskid/gifts).



> For the lovely Moira on her 18th birthday. Have some ellibot for a present.

He should hack Tyrell Wellick, find out why the man was so interested in him, why he wanted Elliot Alderson, just a tech, to work for Evil Corp. To be their head of cyber security of all things when all he'd done was stop a DDOS attack and possibly gotten rid of their CTO. Maybe that was why, Elliot had taken out Colby and given Tyrell a chance to become something more than just interim Tech Chief. Maybe Tyrell knew about fsociety, too many variables, Elliot had to hack him.

...but Flipper, she wanted him to leave, to take her on a walk because she'd been cooped up inside all day and she deserved some exercise. He'd known when he'd taken her that maybe it was selfish, maybe even cruel to keep something like a dog in his tiny apartment. Qwerty was mostly fine, fishes didn't need that much space to be happy, at least from what he'd read online. Flipper on the other hand, he'd saved her from one douchebag and she didn't need him to turn into another one.

"Come on, let's go for a walk," he mumbled, zipping back up his hoodie and taking out her leash. She understood leashes at least, perking up and trotting over obediently, holding as still as a happy little dog could while he hooked her up. Her tail wagged nonstop as he locked up behind him and she mostly lead him out the building as the morphine high took him.

He never really planned out a walking route for her, figured she'd had one with Michael Hansen and maybe the memories would mess with her head. So instead he let her take him anywhere she wanted, down the street, across to a little park where other dogs were usually around to play with. Once she'd even dragged him to a cheap Chinese place and barked at the door, refusing to let him pull her away until he went in and got something.

"If you were a person, I don't think I'd be telling you any of this," he explained as she gnawed on a dog bone he'd bought her. They were in Columbus Park and it was nine in the night, he had a bag of fries and a coke clutched in his hands as though they were his last life line. Tyrell Wellick had offered Elliot Alderson a job at Evil Corp in the security department. Should he have taken the job?

He would've had direct access to their data, fsociety wouldn't have had to go through AllSafe to get them. He could've infected their servers at the source and framed the entire board of directors, he could've taken them out without as much effort as he was expending now. It would've been the best plan in the world, taking out the monster from the belly of the beast.

"I wouldn't have been able to handle it, I'm a wreck. I'm strung out on morphine, I don't have my subs and I'm using way more than I should. They would've caught me in a week, less. You understand, right Flipper?" he rambled on and on not knowing what he said out loud and what he said to his  _friend_. His friend, was he a child that needed comfort? Someone to talk to when shit got tough and his mother, well, when his mother was his mother?

"Hey kiddo, we were wondering where you were," Mr. Robot, the man he'd fucked, the man in charge of one of the most radical hacker group in the world exclaimed as he dropped into the bench next to Elliot. He flinched away, the man was loud, always so loud, but he guessed it was a good cover. No one paid any attention to the poorly dressed man that asked for change and shouted everything, 'he's just crazy sweetie, look away now'. It was a good cover, better than Elliot's at least.

"Now listen, Trenton thinks we really need something to sell the Colby angle. A little flash and bang to get those lines as secure as we'd like them to be so we're doing a commercial tonight," Mr. Robot explained, snatching the bag of soggy fries from his locked fingers and shoving a handful in his mouth. Elliot stared at him, at the way he smiled while swallowing and licking salt off his fingers, there was something…off about it.

"Damn delicious kid, gotta tell ya. Here, you should really eat more," Robot tutted, holding out one wilting fry for him. Did this crackpot really think Elliot was going to eat something he'd  _touched_? He barely let Angela hug him, and he only ever had sex with Shayla when they were both high. He'd had sex with Mr. Robot though, he did, he'd had the marks to prove it for nearly two full weeks.

"Come on, I'm cleaner than a lot of the filthy pricks out here," Clearly Elliot was cracked, and needed to be higher for this shit to start making sense, he opened his mouth and let the man feed him fries. If he was being honest with himself, he liked having someone take care of him, care whether or not he ate and didn't get mad when he didn't. Angela tried, of course she did, she was a good friend, but she got so sad so easy and he really only felt worse afterwards. Shayla was good too but she didn't…get it? Sometimes she was so naïve, had so much growing up to do and he just wanted to protect her.

"There we go, so everyone's meeting for ten which gives us fifteen minutes to book it down there," Robot sighed after checking his watch. It was a nice one, all silver with a lighted display, analog though which usually meant it was expensive, it looked familiar. It reminded him of a birthday gift his uncle had given someone, it'd been engraved on the back 'Happy 40th Ed', engraved watches had been popular back then.

"We should get going, drop little Flip Flop here off at your place then catch a train out to Cony Island," Robot prompted, not quite touching him but implying he would if Elliot didn't move. He stayed put.

"Seriously kiddo, we gotta go. Unless you want Darlene to be fsociety's spokesperson," he suggested with a wiry smile that said more than enough. Elliot stared at him and slumped into the bench, sinking low enough that no one sneaking up on them would even see him. Flipper snuffled around at his feet before plopping her butt on one foot, her face on the other. She'd done it before, liked the warmth or something, or the contact, or maybe just liked him.

"Alright, so we're not going down, that's fine. Perfectly fine. Well, the night's young and so are you, what do you wanna do?" and wasn't that the question? What did Elliot want to do? He wanted to have no part of fsociety, he wanted to change the world, he wanted to kiss Mr. Robot again just to prove he'd done it before.

Of all those things, it was strange to think only the last one was viable, still impossible but less so than the other stuff. Did he want to have sex with Mr. Robot again? The first time had been better than his morphine highs, so much better, he'd felt  _everything_  and remembered it all the next day. He'd had bruises and bite marks to cover up, to prove something had happened, that he'd taken something for himself.

"Hey, I should take you out to dinner. I know this great pizza place a few blocks away from here. Real hole in the wall place that's probably ducking the health inspectors, you'd love it," Robot declared although he didn't make a move to leave. Elliot appreciated that for some reason, the way Robot never seemed to be in a rush or put out by him.

"I don't want pizza," he answered at least two minutes after the conversation had moved on to Robot's favourite type of movie (spy) and why the new James Bond one didn't count.

_'There wasn't any espionage, none of that man of mystery type shit. He just blew stuff up which, don't get me wrong, was great but I needed a little more moustache twirling villain with a ridiculous plan than computer talk. If I wanted hacking, I'd just go to the arcade, know what I mean?'_

"I want to-would like you to," he was floundering, had no idea how to say it without getting the words choked up in his throat. He'd said it before, asked, demanded whatever, why couldn't he do it now? Wasn't human interaction supposed to get easier with time? It was just a skill right, you could improve skills, work on them, couldn't you?

"How about we start walking and you see if you can figure out what you want on the way, sound like a plan?" Robot proposed, yanking his hat off his head and fixing it squarely on Elliot's. He expected to freeze, for every muscle in his body to cease up painfully, but he didn't. He kept on breathing, in and out, he blinked, he shifted and nothing. Another person had touched him, the barest of touches to be sure not even skin on skin contact, but they had and he hadn't shied away.

"Okay," he answered, so simple, so noncommittal. He liked those sort of answers, the ones people couldn't judge him for later just because  _they_  hadn't been paying attention for once. He reached down and nudged Flipper, she hadn't been asleep but he felt the need to duck away from those calm green eyes. They were a nice colour.

"Got a destination in mind Elliot or are we just off wherever the moment takes us?" Robot asked as Flipper trotted in front of them. He shrugged his shoulders, the regular tension between them bleeding away until he wasn't so much hunched over as leaning backwards. The night air was crisp, not quite biting, as they walked and he didn't even feel the need to light one up.

He felt...happy? At ease? Relaxed? Why should he be? Tyrell Wellick was onto him, sort of, and he was working with a group of hackers intent on bringing down the business he worked for along with the rest of the world. He was insane, certifiable if Krista was up to the paperwork, and he was taking more morphine than he should, he was breaking his rule.

"I want to go to the arcade," he blurted as they round the corner, he wasn't sure why he wanted to be there just that he did. He'd get to see the entirety of fsociety, get to know them and maybe trust them, see why Mr. Robot was willing to risk so much with them.

"Well we've got about five minutes until everyone's supposed to meet up but who gives a shit about punctuality these days? Come on, if we run, we can get Flippy home and catch the next train," Robot explained, grabbing his sleeve and dragging him into a staggered run. Flipper barked happily and raced along with them, easily able to keep up with Elliot's lurching stumble and Robot's burdened flight. At least she was getting some exercise and happiness out of this.

They made it back to his apartment in seven minutes, ten less than they would've if they walked. They left Flipper with a lot of dog treats and a promise from Shayla to call if anything happened, anything Shayla, even if you're just bored and want an opinion on the curtains again. Now that the rush of happiness had faded away, the paranoia was easing its way back in, telling him that he was making the wrong call here.

"Next train's in three minutes and then the ride to the arcade, we'll be fashionably late kiddo," Robot stated happily as if Elliot couldn't tell he wasn't eating this shit up. The whole man of mystery type shit that his favourite movie genre wasn't into anymore.

"Why'd you pick Colby?" he asked as they waited, Robot had lit up another cigarette despite his warning and took the time to breathe in a nice deep lungful before answering.

"Who better to sell them out than their own CTO? It's the height of ironic and those conspiracy nuts'll eat it up." Which all things considered wasn't a bad answer, Terry Colby wasn't the most upstanding guy, at least not from his files and private life. Back when he'd just started working for AllSafe, he'd hacked the CTO of Evil Corp and found more than enough for Elliot to wish he could leave anonymous tips on the .01%.

Terry Colby had been one of a select board of people who'd made the decision to cover up the Washington township scandal twenty years ago. That scandal hadn't even been the only one Colby'd given the okay to cover up, there were dozens of others where innocent people had died simply because they'd wanted to make a living. All things considered, Colby deserved everything he got, but it still unnerved him,  _why Colby_?

"Okay," he mumbled, he didn't jump, wasn't surprised that he didn't, when a hand dropped on his shoulder. The hand was warm, solid, and the grip on him was tight, almost tight enough to hurt but he didn't shrug it off. He liked that Robot was willing to touch him, to do it in public where anyone could see and say something.

" _And_  he's one of the bastards at the top, one of the untouchables. With Colby's arrest, the rest of those sanctimonious d-bags'll start to think twice about things. They'll realise that we can hurt them and that'll get them scared, practically pissing themselves by the time we execute the hack." The answer came in a swirl of smoke and self-confidence, this guy was so convinced of his own self-importance, of what fsociety could do that he never thought about them failing. It was both dumb as fuck and the most dangerous, off-their-rocker thing he'd ever heard.

"Okay," he repeated and they stood in silence for the next five minutes it took for the Q to arrive. They took a deserted car again, Robot stood, he sat and they shared cigarettes. He should've felt something other than relief from the nicotine entering his system, something other than familiarity as the passed the cancer stick back and forth.

_'You should hate it'_  his mind supplied ever so helpfully, he ignored it as they ducked out of the subway, out into the much cooler night air. The boardwalk was completely deserted as they made their way through the back alleys to arcade, Robot muttering something about not wanting to be seen by any nosey fucks with a pair of binoculars.

"Hold up kid, almost forgot," Robot said as they slipped into the alley, he turned expecting contact just not as much or as vicious as he got it. His back hit the alley wall hard, hard enough to leave a bruise probably, but there was a hand under his head, cradling the back of it so he didn't crack that too. There were also the lips on his jaw, nipping and sucking at the skin as though there was something to prove by how many little marks could be left.

He should ask what Robot was doing, why he was doing it. Okay, so they'd fucked once but Elliot was only half sure the man remembered that. Mr. Robot hadn't acted differently when he came to get Elliot to join fsociety, he didn't even acknowledge that they'd seen each other before much less what they did. And he didn't even have an explanation for why they'd fucked in the first place,  ** _he'd wanted it_**? Was that a good reason?

"That's better, and gimme back my hat. It completes my look," Robot added, carding a hand through Elliot's hair to hide how much the hat had flattened it. He stared after Robot as he entered the hide out, calling out to Trenton as he did and Elliot scrubbed at his face, his hair. He was okay, confused but okay.

"Oh hey, didn't think you were gonna make it," Mobley said, probably trying to start a conversation but sorely out of practice. Especially with someone like Elliot, familiarity did not breed trust in him, it just gave him more reasons to be suspicious. The only people that tried to get to know someone with fake friendliness were therapists and people that were after something, phishing for information through relationships.

"Yeah, I uh, had to take care of my dog," he lied, only it wasn't really a lie, he just hadn't known about this meet up. How did the others know about this meeting anyway? Did Mr. Robot go around to all of them, rounding them up, slipping them secret messages in their coffee? Or was Elliot special? Because he was the noob?

"Cool, cool, here's the script which I think is gonna kill," and there Mobley went prattling off about how great fsociety was. Every group needed their overenthusiastic member, the one who made t-shirts and got way too into the group until it became their life but they still never managed to contribute anything worthwhile. Mobley was theirs, sure he was a good hacker but there were tons of other good hackers in New York City, maybe he was here because of his connections?

"Hey kids, what's new in the world?" Robot asked, subtly angling Elliot away from Mobley, breaking the eye contact between them and using body language to signal the end of the conversation. Robot was good at that shit, at body language and using it to get what he wanted, just like he had when they first met.

"Uh, nothing," Mobley mumbled, scratching the back of his neck self consciously, stammering about something else as Robot steered Elliot away, off behind the counter and out the back door of the arcade. No one seemed to notice them leaving, Robot probably came and left whenever he wanted, if Elliot tagged along this time there was nothing wrong with that.

"You  _need_  to get out of your head more Elliot. It's not healthy to ignore people for a conversation you make up," Robot grunted, eye narrowed as he looked at Elliot, mad? Mr. Robot was mad at him? W-why? Elliot hadn't done anything beyond talk to Mobley, sort of, and there was no way anyone could know what was going on in his head.

"Hey man, I don't know what you're talking about," he stated, shoulders pulled back, hands in his pockets as he stared at Robot. The man looked mad, his brow was creased and there was a flash fire anger dancing in his eyes that Elliot was half scared, half inquisitive of. What would happen if he pushed?

"Curiosity killed the cat kiddo," Robot warned. Elliot blinked, took a step back before standing his ground, was he that easy to read? So easy that Mr. Robot could tell what he was thinking just from his posture, from his face? And here Krista was always telling him that his face was always so blank, Shayla had called him a goldfish once, said it was super ironic he had a pet fish.

_But satisfaction brought it back_. Wasn't that the rest of the saying? Maybe he should test it, see whether it deserved to be cut or not.

"Last chance kiddo," Robot informed him, the crease between his eyes smoothing as a nasty smirk grew across his thin lips, he still had the stubble. Elliot didn't care about warnings or threats or whether they'd be heard back in the arcade, they were at the back of Cony Island, it could be anyone.

He wanted to say ' _Well maybe you should to stop me_ ' something confident and just as appealing as Robot's threats. He wanted to be tempting and seductive, maybe mysterious, but he was paranoid, socially awkward Elliot Alderson, all he had were stilted conversations and uncomfortable answers. He wasn't the suave Tyrell Wellick, or the over enthusiastic, over confident Ollie Parker, he wasn't even detached Gideon with the best interests at heart.

He was Elliot, just a tech with big dreams and a sewed shut mouth. He couldn't be expected to do anything better than reaching around Robot's head, grabbing his neck and dragging him in for an open mouthed, dirty, messy kiss that he never had control of. He was pinned against the wall in a second flat, a knee between his legs that stopped him from running away and a hand on his throat to keep his noises soft.

It was just as sudden and brutal as whatever happened before they went into the arcade. Teeth nipping at his lips, biting down on his tongue hard enough to hurt but never enough to bleed. The hand on his neck was tight, it was good, he could only get breath through his nose, his mouth preoccupied and it wasn't enough. There was a building pressure and he could hear the blood rushing in his ears, so loud and obnoxious, but it was good, he liked it. Shit, that was fucked up wasn't it?

"Never did know when to back down, did you kiddo?" Mr. Robot tsked, stroking his cheek with his free hand, easing the pressure off his windpipe but not entirely. He didn't answer, was one expected, needed, here? He didn't know, he did know that being choked in a dirty back alley had gotten him hard, somehow. Was it the threat of being walked in on, the danger, the fact that it was Mr. Robot?

He didn't want to, he did, but he ended up grinding against the knee meant to keep him in place. The hands that he'd had no idea what to do it knocked off Mr. Robot's hat, one grabbed a handful of hair, the other a handful of collar. Elliot knew Robot wasn't going to let him get away anytime soon but he needed to know Robot wasn't going anywhere either.

"But I do know, so I'll do us both a favour..." and Elliot was sure there was more to what the man was saying but he blanked it all out so he could savour the hand slipping into his pants. The rough drag up and down his dry dick was uncomfortable but just knowing it was Mr. Robot doing it, knowing that he wouldn't stop until he got a result was enough to make it good.

"Ya know, there're lots of other guys that can't do 'quickie in an alley' but you pull it off good. Real good, Elliot."

It's like the last time when Robot said ' _I love you_ ', the words had a drastic effort, had him bucking up into the deeper strokes. He wanted to be good for Mr. Robot, he wanted to earn those words, to make them true so his sick, fevered mind couldn't tell him it was nothing more than a heat of the moment deal. He wanted to be able to replay those words in his mind, to know they were real so when the loneliness came back maybe it wouldn't be so bad.

"You gonna be good for me?" Mr. Robot asked, smirk pressed into Elliot's neck as the hand on his cock worked faster, easier, thanks to the precome. He sucked in a breath, grit his teeth against doing it again, when the man twisted his wrist, getting a better angle that had Elliot bucking off the wall completely. He was close, real close, Robot knew what he was doing, a master of body language. All Elliot needed was a few more seconds, another little push and he'd be spiralling over the edge.

"I need and answer kid," Robot snapped, the ever present anger scrambling to attention. Elliot couldn't see the man's face, couldn't see those green eyes, such a nice green, so he couldn't see the crazy in them but he knew Robot meant business. The hand on his prick had stopped, was tight around the base of his erection, stopping him from cumming if he tried anything.

"Ok-yes," he mumbled, cracking his head on the wall as he came. His vision whited out for a second and he couldn't hear anything beyond his own frenzied heartbeat, he knew Robot was talking but he didn't care for it. His orgasm was intense, not nearly as draining as when they fucked but there was something. He felt dead on his feet and it was only Robot's hands on him keeping him up.

"You did great kid," Robot was still saying and Elliot snatched the words out of the air, wrote it deep into his source code and threw up another firewall, no one was going to find this.

"I want a shower," he said because he was Elliot Alderson, expert in fucked up relationships. Maybe he'd find some way to hack Mr. Robot, couldn't be as dangerous as Tyrell Wellick.

* * *

 

"Dude where were you last night?" Darlene grumbled, pulling on one his shirts and buttoning it up. He should probably have felt bad when the shirt fit her as well as it fit him, which was to say not at all, he'd got them on sale. They were all big on him and Gideon was always making these little off hand comments about proper workplace attire, Elliot never listened.

"I was-" He couldn't tell her, could he? That he and Mr. Robot had ditched fsociety at the arcade so Elliot could get home to a nice bed and a hot shower. That Robot had jerked him off in the back alley, had choked him and threatened him before getting him off. Would she be surprised? Would she condemn him?

"Doesn't matter," oh, she was continuing, didn't expect any answer from him. He probably didn't have an answer for her anyway.


End file.
